Petty Differences of Good and Evil
by Twisted Kitten
Summary: The story the way I wanted it! Follows an adventure quest theme instead of touenament style fighting. Who will win the mace and will Europe fall into a dark age? Will the evils speard into Asia like it did to Arabia? Only one way to find out!


Petty Differences of Good and Evil  
  
By: Kitty-chan  
  
AN: Fandom from the video game Mace the Dark Age. It's my version of events and how the story played out in a adventure/action quest instead of tourament style fighting. By the way, you don't have to play Mace to enjoy the story.  
  
Prologue  
  
Japan...  
  
"Takeshi, hurry up!"  
  
"I'm coming!", shouted the young boy as he ran after his older brother. The rice field was vast and the workers dotted the field. Ichiro, his older brother, stopped in the field and kept his distance from the field farmers. Takeshi and Ichiro were the young heirs of their noble family. The two had attended the same fighting school and mastered warfare.  
  
A young worker girl stood up from the tall grass and watched the brothers prepare for their sparing match. She hunched down and grabbed her walking stick off the ground. She stood again and looked back at her father working farther way. The worker girl shrugged and decided it was safe to watch the two training samurai if only for a little while.  
  
The two brothers with set katana blades began to spar. They moved with a grace and sense of tradition that only a samurai of the Bushido Code could master. Their speed quickened but maintained grace has the blades clashed together. The worker girl watched in silent awe as her grip tightened on the walking stick. She realized she was the only worker giving much heed to the spar and shuffled around in an attempt to look busy.  
  
Takeshi's face appeared focused but inside he was smiling for he could tell his brother was slacking. Ichiro could tell also that his younger brother was becoming more skilled than himself. The thought of being lesser to someone so young felt like a blow to his pride but it wasn't for Takeshi was his flesh and blood brother. Ichiro let his honor slip for a mere moment and sent a forceable blow into a swing that knocked his brother's blade out of his hands.  
  
The farmer girl saw the blade coming towards her like it was moving has slow has sap. She twirled around and knocked the sword out of the air with her walking staff. The young nobles looked amazed at the speed held by a simple peasant. How could a famer's daughter have speed compareable to a samurai? The younger noble was about to approach the girl if it hadn't been for the call of her father.  
  
"Koyasha, come help your mother!"  
  
The girl smirked at the nobles and ran through the rice field towards her father. Takeshi picked up his katana and looked back at his brother. Ichiro nodded, "Father will be wondering about us."  
  
Takeshi smiled at his brother and they ran towards the training grounds they had wandered from. Meanwhile, Koyasha the daughter of a farmer was grining to herself. The nobles had never guessed her poor family was really part of a ninja clan  
  
  
  
Mongal China...  
  
Xiao Long tumbled about the snow bitten forest. His hand set firmly on a tree and he hugged it for support. He couldn't see a thing. His eyes had been burnt out and he had been cast out to die to the elements by his own father. He winched at the thought of a man he once respected and wondered again how he came to be like this. Worthless and alone.  
  
It all started when he had been ordered by his warlord father to behead an enemy soldier. He couldn't bring himself to kill a unarmed man in unfair combat. His sense of honor had sent him to his fate by his own father. Did he save that soldier? No, just belayed his death. Xiao refused to take the life of a perfectly healthy and living being that was fighting for what he believed in. Was it wrong to spare lives?  
  
Xiao's mind filled with his thoughts has he felt his way about the bitter cold forest. He had walked a long way and was feeling weak. He prepared himself to plumet into the snow and die but as he fell, arms caught him. Xiao held onto the being and automatically knew, this person felt pity like he had for the soldier.  
  
The abandoned boy felt the fabric of the others robes and knew he was a Shaolin monk. Xiao knew he would be alright and that he had found others like him. Those who could forgive.  
  
Italy...  
  
The mercenary held his blade close to the the young man's neck. The young man was in his late teens and looked around worriedly for a weapon as a mercenary kept him pinned down. The young man knew that they had been hired for the simple purpose of ridding Europe of gypsies. The gypsy camp lay in firey ruins around him.  
  
He thought the mercenary was going to kill him like the rest of the clan. The man yelled in his native language and the young man had not understood it but two of his fellow mercenaries ran over to his side. The mercenary began to babble and one of the two men who apperared to be in charge asked the other, "Translate, I don't understand a bloody thing he's saying."  
  
The other man replied, "He says that this one isn't a gypsy."  
  
The leader looked closly at the pinned down man, "I'll be... he isn't."  
  
While the sword drawn man spoke, the other man translated, "He says that this boy put up a good fight. Even gave our french friend here a good blow to the shoulder."  
  
"Is that so?", said the leader as he knelt down to the young man. He looked at him for a moment than asked, "What's a fighter like you doing with people like this?"  
  
The young man hesitated, "My real family was killed and I was orphaned. They raised me."  
  
"Is that so? What's your name, lad?"  
  
"Mordos Kull."  
  
"I'll make you an offer, if you join us than we willn't kill you."  
  
Mordos looked from the leader than to the french man that held the blade to his neck, "I'll do it"  
  
Arabia...  
  
Al' Rashid peeked his head out of his tent just in time to see his father, Khalid. Khaild looked back at the temporary tent city of his assassin guild. He waved to his son and pulled his camel over the first sand dune by it's regins. The King of the Assassins led his company on there next mission, to murder the royal family of Arabia.  
  
Tulwara raced to the throne room as her nanny tried to grab the princess. The nanny made a grab at the hyperactive child but she sped out of her nannie's grip. The princess Tulwara had always been a hand full for the palace attendants.  
  
The little girl reached the throne room and smiled with victory. Luckly, the sultan wasn't pressent and the nanny marched in after the girl.  
  
"What have I told you about running in the palace?", frowned the nanny as she loomed over the girl that attempted to smile innocently.  
  
"Geez, that kid sure does look like a handful. Need some help?", came a sarcastic male voice behind the nanny.  
  
She shot a glare at the eunuch and perpared to fire a come back until another eunuch came up and wispered something urgent in his ear. The first eunuch's eyes became wide with shock and they both dashed down the hall.  
  
Moments later, they came running back but had been chasing mysterious masked men. The masked men carried torches and scimitars to fight off the persuing guards. They touched their torches to near by objects at every chance they got. Soon the room was engulfed with flames and Tulwara with her nanny could only look on with horror.  
  
A near by eunuch grabed the princess from the nannie's grip and carried her out a secert passage. At least Khaild's assassins would not get every member of the royal family.  
  
Jerusalum during the First Crusade...  
  
Sir Dregan sighed and shifted in his chin mail. He sat down on a boulder and looked back at his company. They undid their packs and drug out food for their rest. Dregan knew how they felt, the company hadn't had a brake in a long time. He dug into his pack and pulled out an apple.  
  
"Dregan?", came a voice from out of the company.  
  
Dregan looked back into the group and took a bite from his apple. He knew the voice as his long time friend, Hamnet. The crusader waved his arm, "Hamnet, I'm over here!"  
  
The mail clad man pushed his way out of the group and stood a few feet away from Dregan, "At this rate we might even find the holy grail."  
  
Dregan smiled, "To Jerusalum first."  
  
Hamnet had a wide smile than his skin became increasingly pale. He had a blank expression. Dregan's smile faded slowly, "What's the matter?"  
  
Hamnet's face turned from blank to horrified. Dregan's brow creased, "Is there something wrong, Hamnet?"  
  
Hamnet's hand raised to point behind Dregan yet he reminded wordless. Dregan whirled around and saw the axe hurl into his body. His senses blacked out but the crusader could hear the horrified wails of pain from his company as they fell to his same fate. The sound slowly faded and one more company would not reach Jerusalum.  
  
  
  
Island off the coast of Spain...  
  
It was only a slice of bread thought the peasant has he ran spradicly throughout the jungle-like forest. He had commited a small crime but in his home of Toledo it was a matter to be reckoned with when one stole bread. The prisoner remembered being arrested and sent to this god forsaken prison. It was located on a small island off the coast of Spain. The man that ran this hell hole had made him a deal. If he could escape this damned island than he would set free.  
  
Now here he was, running for his life has that same man hunts him like an animal. He heard the waves crashing onto the shore in the distance. The sound sparked new life in him as he sped up to reach his last chance. The thrashing of the man chasing him could be heard as he stormed after his prey.  
  
The man's feet came to a stop as he reached a cliff and looked down at the ocean that threatened to swallow him if he jumped. The axe of his hunter cut through the brush. The prisoner looked back into the forest with dread. The captured man smiled, "You can not have me, executioner! I will die by the sea rather than face your tourment! Adios, for this is one man you did not get to flay alive!"  
  
The man jumped from the cliff and knew he cheated in a game of cat and mouse. He had controlled his fate and met the sea with its rocks. The sharks would feast on his suicide ridden body. His stalker sighed and lower his weapon. He than realized that he had a prison to torture and marched back inland... this would be fun.  
  
  
  
Viking village of Torsgard...  
  
"Ragnar, what of the wolves? What if they are raiding villages?", asked the viking to his prince.  
  
Ragnar glanced back at his fellow viking, "It is only a rumor. You must trust my judgement."  
  
The band of vikings had been travling to the east to help rumored raided villages. Half way there, Ragnar had recieved a vision of men in red destroying their home. Now, they where heading back to Torsgard.  
  
The forest began to clean of trees as they pressed on. The company came upon the clearing of their village to see it smoking from a fire the snow had put out and laying in a helpless ruin. The paniced vikings raced with rage towards their destroyed city. Ragnar was right.  
  
Ragnar could only stare at the chaos that had been left over. The inhabitants where a bloody mangled mess and the snow shown scarlet instead of white. It was than that the vikings noticed the pairs upon pairs of demonic glowing eyes on the outskirts of the forest. The eyes belonged to the blood thurst pack of wolves.  
  
Palace to the Duke of Iberia...  
  
"The fool! How dare he take my child!", growled the Duke Malanoche as he stood before the closed door of the birthing chamber.  
  
Malanoche de Castillo had been one of the seven lords loyal to Asmodeus, a practitioner of the dark arts who wields the fabled Mace of Tanis. Asmodeus had come across a prophecy that said Malanoche's wicked child would be born on the night of a shroudded moon and be Asmodeus's downfall. Malanoche almost laughted at the thought of being the father to a more evil creature than Asmodeus.  
  
Asmodeus had stormed into the birthing chamber and demaned his newborn son, Taurus or the duke would be stripped of his power. Malanoche burned with anger for giving up his only hope of over throwing Asmodeus.  
  
Without warning the candles in the room went out without a cause. Thunder rumbled and lightening crackeled over the palace. The midwife burst out of the birthing chamber and spoke rapidly, "My lord, your wife is giving birth to a second child! She's having twins!"  
  
Malanoche knew at once that Asmodeus took the wrong child. 


End file.
